Kiyoteru x Reader: With Your Teacher's Help
by Lofe Dystopia
Summary: You "have a medical condition" that mandates regular sex and masturbation. Now that your boyfriend has left for college, who else will fill that role but your handsome math teacher? (female reader)


"The homework for next class is from part III, questions 19 to 27 odd, 31, 35, 36, 41, and 43. Please get started on it while you're waiting for the bell to ring," Mr. Hiyama said, writing the numbers on the board. Students copied it into their notebooks and cracked open textbooks. There were only 10 minutes until the end of the day, sure, but they knew by now that the only time Mr. Hiyama would let them do nothing or leave early was at the end of the year, AFTER exams. You were among them, and began racing through the questions. You knew you were going to be busy this evening.

The bell rang and students packed up and left, most to clubs, some straight home. You're a member of the _ club, but you hoped that nobody would miss you terribly today. You had other plans. You slowed down the frantic pace of your homeworking, writing the final equation just when you're the only student left in class. Mr. Hiyama sat at his desk, already doing whatever it is teachers do after school. Checking emails, you guess, though in Japan that's basically just checking your text messages.

"Mr. Hiyama," you said to get his attention, while putting your notebook and calculator into your bag.

"Have a nice day," he said dismissively, rapt on the gradebook or whatever.

"Do you remember the doctor's note I gave you on the first day?" you asked.

"Hm? Remind me what it was about," he said, finally looking your way.

"It was the really _weird_ one. You might even call it _perverted_." You were really getting the hang of this Japanese pun thing. Thank anime.

Mr. Hiyama started to look through his folders until he recovered the note. Adjusting his glasses, he reread it. "It is vital to _'s health that she is sexually stimulated every month. When self-stimulation does not suffice, I ask the recipient of this note to assist her," he droned in monotone. "Do you not have anyone else? More your age?"

"My boyfriend is in college now," you said, looking to the west. The sun got in your eyes.

The math teacher sighed. "Why me?" he said to himself.

"You're a Vocaloid," you answered, unwarranted. "That makes you kind of a celebrity."

He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and stands up. "Do you have anything to wear that doesn't make you look like a student of mine?"

"We're in Hachigata, it doesn't matter," you said, both to point out how shit the town was, and to hide that you didn't think that part through.

Mr. Hiyama winced. Guess he doesn't like people shittalking his home town. "Fine," he accepted. "I know the rumor mill anyway. Let's go."

You sling your bag over your shoulder and hold Mr. Hiyama's hand.

"Let go," he said, pulling it away and hiding it in his pocket.

You followed dejectedly.

"Where are we going?" you asked, having followed Mr. Hiyama for 20 minutes now. You still haven't gotten used to the whole walking everywhere thing, especially since Hachigata was a hell of a lot less safe than where you previously lived. It was tiring.

"The local love hotel isn't run by computers. The staff will see me bring you in. We're going to my house," he explained. You're excited.

After a while, you reached the church in the park. He walks around to the back, where there's a house. You take your shoes off just inside while avoiding the gaze of a Jesus poster.

"Uh, you're not uncomfortable about this?" you asked.

"Of course I am. But it's for your health and nobody else can do the job," Mr. Hiyama answered.

"Because, like, it's sex before marriage…" you continued.

"I was in high school too, once," he said, as if it explained everything.

You were led to Mr. Hiyama's bedroom. He closed and locked the door behind you as you dropped your bag and went to lie down on the bed. Man, all that walking was kind of exhausting. He took off his glasses and crawled on top of you.

"Mr. H-hiyama.." you almost whispered.

"You can call me Kiyoteru here."

"Kiyoteru…" You put your arms around him and pulled yourself up to kiss him. He kissed back, and if you're going to be honest… he wasn't all that good at it. But then he reached under your skirt, and rubbed you through your panties. You gasped, and you want more.

He stops for a moment to take off the jacket of his suit, but resumes quickly. You're getting wetter by the second, and you wish that he'd just touch you directly already. You loosen his tie and take it off. It was kind of getting in the way, and it already served its purpose of pointing to his dick.

In that break, he takes the opportunity to remove his belt. You wrap your legs around his torso, closing the gap between your wet panties and the bulge in his pants. You want Kiyoteru so damn bad. And while you're kissing him again, you do that one neat little trick to take your bra off underneath your shirt. You toss it off the bed, and put one of his hands on your boobs. He squeezes awkwardly.

Kiyoteru unzips and pulls down his pants and underwear just enough to free his half-hard cock. You immediately take hold of it and begin stroking, and he finally lets out a sound to counter all the cute noises you made when he touched you earlier.

He leaves the bed for a moment to find a condom, and in that meantime you pull your panties off, revealing the pink flesh that is your soaking wet pussy. He comes back, and he's on top of you once again. He massages your clit with his thumb, making you gasp and moan. The space between you two is so close, and so hot. You can feel Kiyoteru's warm breath on your cheeks.

He lines up his cock with your entrance and slowly pushes it in. You're so filled up that you almost cry. You feel like you're on fire.

"Is this okay?" he asks.

"Sensei, pleeeaase," you moan, moving your hips. "Teach me how to feel good~!"

And this is the cue Kiyoteru takes to start thrusting in and out, rubbing your clit with his fingers all the way. The pleasure is unbearably intense. You want to keep your eyes open, to look at your beautiful teacher as he fucks you, but you just can't focus. Your eyes are closed, focusing on nothing but the sensations. Your lips mashed against his, one of his hands focused on stimulating your oh-so-sensitive bundle of nerves, and the other hand caressing your breast, your hip, your thigh. The cock ramming into you, the point of connection where your bodies are melding into a single frantic mess. You don't care about the fact that you're a student, all the drama with your friends and the high grades everyone is competing for. You don't care that Mr. Hiyama is your teacher, currently having sex with a schoolgirl, risking being fired even if your ages are legal. In fact, you can't care. There's nothing on your mind except this moment, here and now.

Everything vanishes as you come the most intense orgasm that's rocked your body in years. You scream, you want the whole world to know how good you feel. Kiyoteru quickly claps his hand over your mouth. Your pussy squeezes tightly around his dick, and it's just a few moments later that he cums too. Exhausted, he pulls out and throws the condom away before falling back onto the bed, breathless.

Your mind slowly clarifies as you return to the real world. "Don't worry, Mr. Hiyama," you assure, in between heavy breaths. "I already finished my math homework."

"That's good," he says, too tired to say anything else.

"Oh, by the way," you begin. "The doctor's note was fake. The truth is, I love you, sensei…"

He almost kicks you off the bed.


End file.
